Actions Speak
by slaymaster
Summary: Kate Beckett is an intelligent woman, but with that intelligence comes a tendency for her to overthink things – big time. When Richard Castle forces his way into her life, her brain goes into overdrive. This is a series of one-shots from Beckett's perspective at various points throughout the series. Can be read individually or in conjunction with one another. UPDATE: Visiting Rick
1. Author's note

_**Actions Speak:**_

**Summary:** Kate Beckett is an intelligent woman, but with that intelligence comes a tendency for her to overthink things – big time. When Richard Castle forces his way into her life, her brain goes into overdrive. This is a series of one-shots from Beckett's perspective at various points throughout the series. Can be read individually or in conjunction with one another.

_A/N: I have a tendency to write lengthy-one shots that essentially take the point of view of a character at a point in time, with them reflecting on the situation at hand. I've got a rather substantial list of such one-shots that I have been planning on writing, focusing primarily on Kate Beckett's point of view at particular times. While all of the one-shots stand alone, and are part of the canon time-line, I decided the best course of action would be to add them all to the one story._

_While all are one-shots, I will be arranging them in the order of the show (unless specified otherwise) and they will be the sort of one-shots that you can read all at once, in order, or not in order. It's up to you!_

_I can't promise to update every day as I have other stories that I am writing, but am hoping to upload something at least once a week, preferably two to three times per week._

_If you have suggestions, please feel free to make them because I am always looking for ideas. Feedback is also much appreciated._

* * *

_**CONTENTS:**_**_  
_**

**0. The Morning Race -** Set before the show starts, it's Kate's morning routine (although this really could be at any point in the show)

**1. A Wild Richard Castle Appears** - set in the first episode of the show. It's lengthy and basically follows her through the entire episode.

**2. What is love?** - Castle's questioning at the park gets Kate thinking about love.


	2. The Morning Race

_**A/N: Here I go with my becket one-shots. I'm oh-so-tempted to write one for each episode, though I'm not sure if that is over-the-top or not. I'd love to know what you guys think about that idea. **_

_**While it wasn't on my list of ideas originally, I did plan to start with episode one. As I started writing, however, I realised that wasn't what I wanted. So here I am. My first one-shot for the series is pre-Castle. Well, not necessarily. It's basically how I imagine Kate goes about her morning. It's totally different to the others I have written and to the ones I've got in my head, but I wanted to start with it. I promise, Castle will be **__**very**__** present in the next chapter!**_

Her day began like almost any other. The alarm went off at 5:30am, beeped four times before her hand hit the snooze. She blinked slowly, kicked the heavy blanket off and jumped out of bed, so fast it was almost a single movement. She was a creature of habit. She knew that her alarm clock would go off precisely nine minutes after she silenced it and that, by the time she got from her bed to the kitchen, she would have eight minutes.

As she left her bedroom, she entered open space room that consisted of her kitchen, lounge and dining rooms. Headed for the small dining table, she picked up a clean bowl, spoon and glass from the side of the sink, opened the pantry and found her muesli, used her foot to open the fridge and somehow found a way to add the large tub of yoghurt and the carton of orange juice to her towering stack before making a beeline for the table. It was the same routine every day. Why would she make multiple trips when she could do it all? As she went about her routine, her baggy NYPD T-shirt shifted, revealing a pair of her many Hello Kitty boy-legs. She didn't try to pull her shirt back down. She was comfortable with her body, and she lived alone. Smiling at nothing in particular, she poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a sip before getting to work on her breakfast. By the time she had finished making it, she would have six minutes before the alarm sounded again. She ate in silence, like she did every other day. She used to turn the T.V. on for background noise, but there was never anything on anyway. Why bother? She always took her time eating breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day and the five and a half minutes she spent eating breakfast were usually the most peace she would have all day.

She finished her meal at 5:38, like clockwork. As she stood from her seat, she picked up the bowl, glass and spoon, dumping them in the sink on the way back to her room. As she crossed the threshold, the alarm went off. She grinned as it did. She knew it was crazy, but she loved her morning routine. She dashed over to the bedside table, turning the alarm off properly this time. It was strange, and she knew it, but she let her alarm go off twice for a reason. Kate Beckett was always getting lost in her own thoughts so each morning she raced against the clock, allowing exactly nine minutes for breakfast. When she succeeded (and she always did) she pulled on a pair of shorts, slipped on socks and ditched the baggy shirt in favour of a crop-top. It was this part of the morning that she always loved. Kate left her room, picking up her bright runners as she left. She sat back down in the seat she had eaten breakfast, taking a few minutes to put her shoes on properly. Once her feet felt comfortable she stood up, picking up the tub of yoghurt and the carton of juice, returning them to the fridge. She paused, looking out over her apartment at the large window. She saw that it was getting light outside. Before she left for her run, she went to the pantry and pulled out a Gatorade. She knew it wasn't good to have such a sugary drink early in the morning, but by the time she finished her run she would have been up for over an hour. It wasn't ideal, but it was more refreshing than a coffee after a run. Kate quickly shoved the sports drink in the freezer before heading to her door. She had a small entry table just left of the front door and kept her iPod shuffle and the key she slipped in her shoe in the blue bowl that sat on top. Kate clipped the mp3 player onto the band of her shorts and placed the earbuds in her ears. Opening the door, Kate quickly left the apartment and locked the door before squatting, ever so briefly, to tuck the key into her shoe. As she began to jog towards the stairs, as opposed to the lift, she pressed play and music filled her ears.

"Oh crap!" she muttered to herself as she reached the lobby of her building. She had forgotten her phone. She sighed, turned around and began running back up the stairs. She rarely needed her phone on her morning runs, but she liked to be reachable at all times. She hated the idea of someone trying to contact her and not being able to. As she reached her apartment, she squatted, trying to pull the key out of her shoe. It had shifted under the arch of her foot and her fingers couldn't get to it. She shifted positions so she was sitting on the floor, and deftly undid the laces, pulling the shoe off. The key made a faint noise as it hit the ground. She picked it up with her left hand as she stood, using her right hand to carry in the running shoe that had let her down.

As she walked back into her apartment and closed the door she heard her cell ringing from the bedroom. She looked up at the clock on the wall, noting it was now 5:55am. She sighed as she pulled the other shoe off her foot, knowing that she wouldn't have time for her run today. A phone call at this time in the morning only meant one thing: a murder.


	3. A Wild Richard Castle Appears

_**Well here is my first episode chapter. I'm still undecided as to whether I'll do one for each episode of the show, but if I don't, it really would be amiss to leave out where it all began.**_

_**Most of Kate's over-thinking nonsense in this one-shot revolves around the fact that she is secretly a Richard Castle fangirl and doesn't want him, or Ryan/Esposito to find out. There is a little freak out over Castle's flirtiness, but only in instances where it was obvious on the show. If I had addressed all his lewd remarks, I'd never finish!**_

* * *

**1. It's a wild Richard Castle**

Never in her wildest dreams (or nightmares) would she have imagined that _this_ was how her week would turn out. If someone had sat her down and told her that she'd be spending time with Richard Castle she would have freaked out, in a total fangirl way. When she walked into Alison Tisdale's loft that evening, she had no idea what she was going to find. When she saw the body covered in roses with a sunflower over each eye, she not only knew exactly what was going on but exactly who she had to talk to. She was going to be face-to-face with her favourite author, and _this time_, it wasn't going to be for a book signing.

As a fan of the writer, Kate Beckett knew that Richard Castle was launching his final Derek Storm novel, Storm Fall, that night and that there was a fancy party going on. The author had already posted four photos from the night on twitter and, like all good fangirls, Kate had been checking his feed all night. She was a fan of his writing and tried not to read the gossip magazines that showed countless photos of his apparent conquests, but you had to be living under a rock not to know that Ricky Castle considered himself a lothario. As prepared as she thought she was, Kate had seriously underestimated the guy. There were women everywhere, most of them with autographed chests proudly on display. She sighed, telling herself that he was probably a perfectly nice, _normal_, guy. Sure, he was ruggedly handsome and ridiculously rich, not to mention famous, but he was just like any other guy. And then she saw him.

Kate took a deep breath and closed her eyes, just for a moment. She had to tell herself to keep breathing and began to tell herself that he was just a normal man in her head, over and over. He had his back to her, but she knew it was him. She had been a fan since she was 19 years old and his books had always meant a lot to her. Breathing slowly, she told herself that she was being ridiculous. She was a grown woman and a detective investigating a homicide. She couldn't stay, lurking around corners, close to hyperventilating all night. She needed to stand tall and man up, so to speak. She remembered back when she was a kid and was nervous about singing a solo at the school concert. Her mother had told her to picture everyone in his or her underpants and she wouldn't be so nervous anymore. She'd just do that. She's pretend that Richard Castle was in his underpants. That would work. Wait, no! That wouldn't help! That'd just make things worse! She looked around, hoping that she could prolong the inevitable a little longer. Of course, being in her work clothes, she was hardly dressed for a party and stood out like a sore thumb. Vodka would help, but she was unfortunately working.

Okay Katie, she thought to herself, you can do this! She took one last breath, stood up straight and walked straight up to the man himself.

"Mr Castle?"

After what seemed like forever, but was only a second, Richard Castle whipped around, pulling a pen from his breast pocket. "Where would you like it?"

It was all she could do to keep from laughing, especially after thinking about him in his underwear. And there it was again. She inhaled sharply and began to speak quickly without breathing, while presenting her badge. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight"

He was obviously shocked, unable to respond. She could only hope that he couldn't see past the badge. She could _not_ have this man know she was a fan.

* * *

Back at Precinct 12, Kate was able to get her hands on a copy of Richard Castle's file. As a fan, it was an interesting read. Hell, as a human being it was an interesting read. This man had lived. She had him, _alone_, in one of the interrogation rooms. She began to look through his numerous offences, reading them out loud.

"It says here they you stole a police horse?" As she said it she could hear the disbelief in her voice. At least she wasn't hyperventilating like earlier.

"- borrowed" he corrected.

"Ah" she noted as she looked back at the file, "and you were… _nude_ at the time?" There it was again! No matter what she did, her head was bound to be in the gutter with this guy. If only her mother had known what her advice to little Katie with stage fright would have led to.

He was talking, she didn't know what about, but all of a sudden she heard him say "but I'd be happy to let you spank me"

Dealing with this guy was going to be _harder_ than she had thought. She took a deep breath and decided just to get on with it. The faster she spoke the less likely he was to notice that she was close to giggling one minute and almost hyperventilating the next. Hopefully.

"You don't look deranged to me!"

"What!" she snapped. He was onto her. _Crap_. He worked it out. From then on in it was all she could do to keep it together. He started going on about occupational hazards and she tuned out. She didn't need to see him stroking his _ego_ here. There were plenty of talk show interviews that she could watch if she wanted to see him grandstanding. It almost sounded like he was _flirting_?

"-and do you know you have gorgeous eyes?"

_Oh. My. God. He really was flirting_! Her breathing slowed and it it took her a second to pull it together. She did the best she could, speaking so fast she wasn't sure what she said. She could not be falling for this guy's charm. No way.

"Can I get copies?" No, she was _definitely_ not going to fall for Richard Castle's charm. _Never_.

* * *

Kate had always been fairly guarded at work. Part of it was self-preservation. She had been a guarded person ever since her mother's murder. Part of it, however, was the thrill she got when one of the many mysteries of her life were revealed. The looks on faces when people found out something unexpected… it was _always_ priceless! Ryan and Esposito knew the basics about her life. They knew that her mother had been killed, although it wasn't like everyone at the precinct didn't already know. Lainie, of course, knew much more about Kate's life, being her close friend, but there were _certain_ things she didn't want people knowing. She didn't want them to know how much of a girly girl she was _away_ from work. She didn't want them to know _anything_ about her childhood. That would result in relentless torture! Most of all, however, she did _not_ want them knowing that she was a fan of Richard Castle's books. Right now, however, Castle's books were part of the case. In fact, they _were_ the case. The day after her encounter with Rick Castle himself, Kate boxed up her copies of his books and brought them to work. She was careful not to put certain copies in the box. She didn't need them finding out that she had _signed_ copies! If only she had remembered the bookplates in the front of each novel.

"Property of _Katherine_ Beckett" teased Kevin Ryan.

_Oh crap!_

* * *

This case was driving Kate insane. Between the ribbing she was getting from Ryan and Esposito, and the frustration at herself about her behaviour around Richard Castle. At least that embarrassing chapter of her life was over. She turns around at the urging of Esposito and it's that damn Richard Castle chatting to Captain Montgomery. Her face sinks. She was going to be stuck with Castle until the end of the case. Just when her day was looking up!

Kate felt his eyes on her. Rick was supposed to be helping them go through his fan mail, in the hopes that they would find something that would help them find the murderer. There was a tonne of it. She hadn't realised so many people wrote to authors. She hoped that he had never seen the letter that she had sent a decade ago. It was just after everything had happened and she had started to read a few of his books. They had really helped her when the going was tough. The more time she spent with him, the more she wondered how she managed to like his books. _Ugh_. She looked up and made eye contact with him. It was a little creepy how much he stared.

He talked an awful lot too. She knew he had a giant ego from the start, but it seemed that he couldn't get enough of his own voice either. He kept going on about the 'story'. Kate couldn't help but think that this guy was completely clueless. She was a detective. She'd been working in homicide for long enough to know that there wasn't always a story. Hell, she'd seen it at the age of 19 when her mother was stabbed to death. Sometimes, people were just psychopaths.

"There's always a story, always a chain of events that makes everything make sense. Take you for example. Under normal circumstances, you should not be here. Most smart good looking women become lawyers, not cops. And yet here you are. Why?" Was this guy serious?

"I don't know, Rick. You're the novelist. You tell me."

"Well, you're not bridge-and-tunnel. No trace of the boroughs when you talk. So that means Manhattan. That means money." He paused and she rolled her eyes. It didn't take a genius to work that out. "You went to college, probably a pretty good one. You had options. Yeah, you had a lot of options, more socially acceptable options." He paused again. The way he _spat_ the word 'socially' made it sound like she was a garbage man or a prostitute. She was a detective, she was fine. "But you still chose _this_." He paused again and she pursed her lips. "That tells me, something happened. Not to you. No, you're wounded, but you're not that wounded." By now all traces of the smile she wore had faded, including the smile in her eyes. She just looked sad. "No, it was someone you care about, it was someone you loved." This time he paused for what seemed like an eternity. She was trying not to cry. She wouldn't. She was Kate Beckett. She was tough. She didn't want to be, but she would _not_ fall apart in front of _him_. "And you probably could have lived with that but the person responsible was never caught." Kate tried shaking her head, she tried to say something. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong. There was a lump in her throat and she feared that if she tried to speak, she would fall apart.

Castle looked away, back to the papers in front of him, adding "And that Detective Beckett, is why you are here." He looked upset, but he had _no_ right to be that way. He had gone too far, and he thought he knew her, he thought that he knew everything.

She took a deep breath as she looked down, her eyes darting around but not up. She licked her lips, trying to do anything to stop herself from falling apart. "Cute trick. But don't think you know me." There was a certain sadness in her voice. She didn't want to be stuck in the room with him, but she had no choice.

Kate hated that Castle saw how vulnerable she was. She hate that he had her figured out. She hated everything about him. After he pulled her apart, it seemed like he had realized that he had gone too far. He was a mild annoyance, disobeying orders and the like, but it seemed like he was trying to make up for the things he had said. Kate just wanted him gone. When she closed the case, she was filled with the usual relief, but also additional relief. She would _never_ have to see Richard Castle again.

* * *

Kate arrived at the Precinct the next morning, coffee in hand, as usual. As she turned the corner, she noticed that Castle was sitting in her desk perusing files. Pissed off, she ran to her desk, placing her coffee in it's usual spot before liberating the files.

"What are you doing?"

"It's a novelist's habit… going through other people's mail. Looking through the medicine cabinet." Kate couldn't help notice that he always sounded like he was smiling. It annoyed her.

"What are you still doing here?"

He looked away, reaching for something on the desk. "I just came by to give you this." He said as he handed Kate a small, floral box. "It's uh, a little something to memorialize our brief partnership." Kate's face softened, slightly, before he added "Don't look so suspicious. Go on, open it."

Kate grabbed the box from him and sighed audibly, looking him in the eye as she does it. She pulls the lid off the box without breaking eye contact. She couldn't help but look. He had gotten her an advanced copy of the new book and probably signed it. She wondered what suggestive comment he had written. She wasn't really listening to him, go on and on and on about whatever it was he was talking about, although it was presumably something arrogant.

" – not that you're a fan!" She was right. His arrogance pissed her off.

"uh, thanks" she said, before adding "it's actually kind of… sweet." She looked up at him and into his eyes. It seemed a little awkward for a moment, as if he was stalling. For someone who was paid to notice every detail, she had spent a great deal of time _not_ paying attention. She was understandably shocked when, seconds later, Richard Castle's lips were on her face.

_What the hell was he thinking?_ It wasn't a romantic kiss, and it had been one her cheek, but it wasn't like a friendly kiss. It was so close to her lips that, had she not stood perfectly still, their lips would have touched. She wasn't sure whether to squeal as a fan of Richard Castle or be pissed off, as Kate Beckett, independent woman. She glared at him, taking all the self control she had not to turn and watch him leave. Once he was gone, her brow furrowed and jaw dropped, and she couldn't help but turn. She had to make sure she was gone. She may have understood murderers, but men were an entirely different game. Sitting in her desk she silently grinned to herself, rolling her eyes as she realized that she was being silly. Richard Castle was an arrogant jerk and she had played into his hand. He flirted every second he spent with women and expected them all to fall at his knees. She couldn't let it mean anything.

She let her thoughts return to work and, remembering the files he had been looking at, considered that maybe Castle had gotten what he wanted. "He didn't" she said to no one in particular, mainly to convince herself. It didn't work as she dove into her stack of files, looking for the information he had been perusing. It wasn't there. "Oh he did!" she yelled. At least she got to arrest him. Payback was a bitch.

* * *

Arresting Richard Castle had been the highlight of her day. As much as she made him think she hated his innuendo and the back and forth they shared, she really enjoyed it, and doing it with him in cuffs was even more fun. Of course, the man-child had to ruin everything, He started going on about the guy who committed the murders being innocent. What he said made sense, and she had doubts herself, but she didn't want _him_ knowing that. When she saw him make similar (although non-sexual of course) remarks to his mother when she came to bail him out, she was slightly glad. At least he was a jerk to everyone. She could only imagine having him for a son, or a father, as her thoughts drifted to the teenager who had also shown up. She shuddered.

"You've still got the wrong guy" he said as he left. She couldn't help but think he was right, but the evidence was there.

* * *

The next day meant more investigating. As she entered the Tisdale NYC building, she noticed that _he_ was there. _GREAT_. Flashing her badge, she headed straight for the elevator. For once, Richard was the bumbling idiot. She liked it this way. While technically he shouldn't have been there, she decided it wouldn't do hard for him to tag along. She grinned at him as the elevator arrived, "You coming?"

He frustrated her endlessly, yet he was pretty good. He came to the conclusion that the victim's father was dying. When she considered the things he said, it should have been obvious. She was _supposed_ to notice the little things. The sickly weight loss may not have been obvious, but the hairpiece and the make up most definitely were. Plus, if he hadn't noticed, she wouldn't have been able to cause him physical pain! She was ecstatic when the obviously lying brother had fooled the writer. While she was thankful for his help, it stung a little when _he_ had noticed things that _she_, the trained detective, hadn't. Of course, when she told him that the murderer was lying, all he took from it was the fact that he was right.

* * *

The rest of the case proceeded, with Castle only causing slight problems. She had cuffed him to the car, but he, apparently, had a universal key. If he hadn't have been trying to get out, she wouldn't have known that the suspect was running down the fire escape. When the suspect had a gun to Castle's head, she couldn't help but be concerned, and not for just the paperwork that would hit her if the trigger was pulled. She wasn't sure why, probably because she wouldn't get to read any more of his novels. _Yup_. That was it. She was relieved to get the murderer cuffed, but couldn't help showing her displeasure at the writer, throwing him against the wall. If anyone had been watching, they would have thought that there was more to the situation, but she knew there wasn't.

With the case closed, she tried to say goodbye to the writer so her life could return normal, or at least what masqueraded as normal in her messed up life.

"Well, I guess this is it." Kate had never been so happy to say those words.

"Oh, it doesn't have to be. We could go to dinner, debrief each other." As he made the comment, she had a smile that reached her ears. Inside, she was rolling her eyes, but why couldn't she have a little fun? She would never see Richard Castle again and decided to mess with the guy. After all, he'd been messing with her all week.

"Why, Castle? So I can become another one of your conquests?"

"Or I can be one of yours." She bit her lip absentmindedly, unsure of where to go from there.

She looked down at the ground and decided to be an adult." It was nice to meet you, Castle," Kate said as she extended her hand.

He looked down, shaking her hand, before adding, "It's too bad. It would have been great."

Kate couldn't help but notice that he looked disappointed. She decided that being an adult was no fun. She _had_ to have a little fun. After all, after this one comment, he was gone from her life, forever. She bit her lip again, this time seductively, taking a small step so their bodies were almost touching. She leaned into him, looking up as she whispered in his ear, "You have no idea." He couldn't see her eyes, and that was a good thing. She didn't linger, looking into his eyes for a split second before turning and heading back to her colleagues.

As Kate Beckett walked away from Richard Castle she felt his eyes burning into the back of her. She had a spring in her step. _She_ had won. He was looking alright, so she made sure to look good.

* * *

The next day Captain Montgomery called her into his office.

"Apparently, you have a fan."

"A fan, sir?"

"Rick Castle. Seems he's found the main character for his next set of novels: a tough but savvy female detective."

Typical. She says one suggestive thing to the guy and he basis a book on her. She had to admit to herself, it was pretty sweet. "... I'm flattered?"

"Don't be. He says he has to do research."

The color drained from Kate's face. "Oh no!"

"Oh yes!" Kate couldn't help noticing that Montgomery may have been having a little too much fun with this.

"No way!"

"Beckett, listen –"

"Sir, he is like a nine-year-old on a sugar rush, totally incapable of taking anything seriously."

"But he did help solve this case. And when the mayor's happy, the commissioner's happy. And when the commissioner's happy, I'm happy."

"How long, sir?"

"It's up to him" Montgomery said as he motioned to the door. Kate rolled her eyes and turned to find Richard Castle standing at the door, smirking suggestively. She was going to be paying for her comment for weeks. At least she could now look at the man without hyperventilating or freaking out. He really was just a normal man, albeit a normal man who pissed her off.

* * *

_**A/N: And so it began. This is different to the other ones I've done (not yet posted). I couldn't just pick one moment from the episode to write and decided that the whole episode is so fundamental in understanding Kate's psyche that I should just do the whole thing. I'd love any feedback on Kate's characterization because I love to improve. **_

_**I'll see you next time?**_


	4. What is Love?

_**A/N: So I feel like I shouldn't have written so much in the last one. For a one shot, it was pretty long and I kinda took Beckett to places I wasn't expecting. So I'm bringing this one back to the original aim of my series… it's a small oneshot on a TINY part of an event of an episode. Well, it's a composition of a few parts. Kate Beckett thinks about love and loss**_

_**I have to thank Shutterbug5269 for help with the Will thing.**_

_**What is love?**_

"Exactly how many times have you been married Castle?" she asked, knowing the answer. She was a fan, she knew that he had been married to Meredith, Alexis' mother, and Gina, the pretty blonde publicist. He just spoke about marriage so much that she couldn't help but question him about it.

He looked at her as he quickly answered, "twice", his piercing blue eyes questioned her, as if she knew that was the case. He may have been good, but she was better.

"That's it?" she replied, sort of hoping for some juicy gossip.

"Isn't that enough?" Kate couldn't believe it! Lothario Ricky Castle was a romantic deep down. If that wasn't some magazine-worthy gossip! "How about you?" he asked, grinning.

"Me, no." she replied as quickly as she could. There was silence as her companion pondered what she said, staring at her. The silence seemed to drag on forever, but she was sure it probably lasted no more than a second. Quieter than before, she added, "Never been."

"Really?" he questioned, full of disbelief. She hoped that he wasn't trying to find a story. This was _not_ something that she had wanted to talk about.

Kate answered quickly, her lips forming a frown, "yep".

The two neared the playground, with Kate reaching out to the metal fence and Richard leaning against it. "You'd be good at it. You're both controlling and disapproving. You should really try it." He tried to catch her eyes, but she avoided his gaze.

"I'm not an 'if first you don't succeed' kind of a girl Castle. When it comes to marriage I'm" she paused, sharply breathing "more of a 'one and done' type."

He seemed to ponder what she had said, before continuing the inquisition, "Any serious candidates?"

He looked at him, and he genuinely seemed to be curious. She didn't blame him; she knew so much about him and he knew so little. The only actual facts he knew were that she was a detective and she had read at least three of his books. That was all he knew for certain. She wanted to answer and opened her mouth to tell him, but she couldn't. She hoped that he didn't see the pain in her eyes and searched the park for distraction. Seeing the girl they were looking for, Kate buried her past and did her job.

Kate was always good at compartmentalising. When she had a fight with her best friend at the age of eight, she had returned home from school without her parents realising anything was different. When she had gotten into Stanford, she was ecstatic, but was able to control her excitement to the point that people didn't notice the wide grin on her face. When her mother had been killed she compartmentalised too. It was who she was. She always buried the pain. There was something about Rick Castle, however, that seemed to bring up the painful memories of her life.

That night she sat at her small kitchen gable, eating the remnants of her dinner and reflecting on her day. That wasn't unusual; she always thought about her day over dinner. It was _what_ she thought about that disturbed her. She kept replaying the conversation she had shared with Castle.

"_Any serious candidates?"_

She was awful with relationships. It wasn't for lack of trying. She often went out on Saturday nights, but hated the fact that romance was dead. It used to be so much easier. A lump grew in her throat as she thought about the past again. She hated the aftermath of relationships, especially the good ones. She hated that no matter how good a relationship seemed it could always end. When she was 13 and began dating, she thought love was forever. She looked at her parents, and they were so in love. When her first boyfriend, Luke Jensen, broke up with her, she was heart broken. As smart as she was, she thought they were forever. They weren't. It was at 15 that she decided on having a 'once and done' policy. Just because she was realistic, didn't mean that she wasn't in pain.

The relationship with Will still hurt. She told herself that it was always going to hurt the most – especially as it was her most serious relationship yet. Since her mother had died she had struggled to get close to people, especially men. People leave, not always by choice, but people leave. Her mother had already left and she didn't want to put herself through a break up. She had let her guard down and let a man into her life and the pain that came from that was her punishment.

She understood why it still hurt. Some things are just so awful that you never get over them. She just wasn't sure how they had gotten there. Where did it all go wrong? Will had seemed perfect at first. He took her out to nice restaurants. He opened doors, held chairs and walked her as far as the front door of her building. He seemed so perfect. He was handsome and charming. He could cook. He wanted forever, not just a relationship, or at least that was what he had said. As it happens, charming guys lie too.

She took a deep breath and scooped up the final piece of gnocchi. With the piece of bread that sat beside the bowl, she scooped up the remaining sauce. She had to stop vilifying Will. In his defence, he hadn't lied. In fact, he was completely upfront through the entire relationship. She knew, from the start, where he wanted to be career-wise. She knew, from the start, that there was a good chance that he would have to relocate. She knew this, but she felt so deceived the day that he had gotten a call offering him the job in Boston. No, he didn't lie, not about that. He lied to her every day for five months, telling her how much he loved her. He was lying because if he had loved her, he wouldn't have gone. If he loved her, he would have stayed. If it was the other way around, she would have stayed.

She had loved Will so much. When she loved someone, she loved hard. She gave him her heart and she opened up. She let him in and she let him see her when she was down. She had given him everything and he didn't love her enough to stay. She had fought so hard at the start, hoping to avoid a relationship with a colleague, but it seemed to right, so meant to be. She kept the relationship close to her heart, saying it was to prevent problems at work, but secretly to guard herself.

She stood, taking her empty glass with her and poured some more wine. For six months, they were perfectly happy. They had discussed moving in together and they had spent many nights discussing the future. They planned holidays together and talked about whether they would raise kids in the city or whether they would move to the suburbs. They decided the city was better. They had even looked at rings. They weren't ready for marriage, not by a long shot, but she was open to one. If Will had proposed, she probably would have said yes. Kate always figured that was the reason she had been so hurt. She opened her heart to him and started to look for more in life.

She hadn't told her friends about how she had looked at rings. It was her little secret. She hadn't told anyone about that, or about the wedding magazine she had bought. In fact, her friends knew so little about the relationship with Will that she hadn't been so shocked by the breakup. Perhaps Kate had been guarded about the relationship, knowing it would go down the drain. It was convenient in the days following the breakup and meant few awkward questions. Unfortunately it made it difficult to talk about it with anyone.

She took her wine to the couch and sat, turning the TV on. Hopefully there would be something on that would distract her. She sipped her wine absentmindedly as she lost herself in Letterman. It wouldn't work; it never did. So instead she thought about life. When she was a child, she never would have guessed that she would become a detective. She thought that by the time she was 30 she would be married with at least one kid. By the time her mother was 30 she had a two-year-old. Kate thought she would be like her mother in that regard. It really didn't look like that was going to happen.

She hated that Writer Boy had gotten her worked up like this. Kate was never the girl who wallowed in sweats, eating ice cream and watching romance movies to get over a boy. She was never the girl worried that she was never going to find a husband. Yet here she was, beating herself up for letting the one true love of her life go. She felt pathetic.


	5. 5 Kinda Slutty

"**Muse"**

_**Based on 1x04.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle, but I do own a copy of Heat Wave and the graphic novel.**_

Kate Beckett hated what her life had come to. An adolescent man-child, intent on making her life hell was following her every move. Castle had been following her for less than a week, but she was already sick of the man. Every comment that was made had a sexual undertone. She wasn't a prude, but she wasn't a flirt either, at least not at work. She didn't mind flirting with a guy on her day off or once she was finished for the day, but she liked to keep her work and personal life separate. She didn't need to be followed by a professional flirt to get her fix. The whole book-based-on-her thing was really starting to get old, and fast. Every move she made was copied by _him_ and he couldn't help but get in the way of her work. It was infuriating. Even better: it got her in the mood for payback.

With the case closed Kate was ready for a quiet night at home. What could be better? She noticed as Castle got a phone call and realised that he had forgotten something, running out of the station like a mad man. She slowly turned back to her desk, her mind ticking over. There was only one thing to do.

Kate rushed home, doing her makeup on the way. As she ran into the apartment, shoes in hand, she headed straight for the bathroom to fix her hair. She paused to look at herself in the mirror, deciding her hair wasn't too bad. It _had_ been neat at the station, but all that rushing around had left her hair with a windswept look that, she had to admit, looked pretty hot. She decided to take precautions and liberally sprayed hairspray. Satisfied with hair and makeup, she ran to her bedroom to find a dress. She wanted something that made her look hot without being too revealing. As her eyes settled on a pink dress that had a high neck (and equally short length), she knew that it was the right dress. Quickly pulling off her work clothes, she changed her bra and slipped into the dress. Smoothing it with her hands, she knew it would work. She grabbed a trench coat and a pair of black heels from the closet and checked her watch. She would have to hurry if her plan was to work.

On the way to the book store, Kate had found a pair of earrings in her coat pocket. _Perfect_. As she approached the area where he was holding the reading, she pulled off the coat, making sure to do so as flirtaciously as possible. She knew that he had seen her as his eyes did not leave her body. She gave him a flirtacious look, knowing her job was done, raising her eyebrows at him. With the reading complete, she knew he would be looking for her. He was.

"I just figured if you're going to bother me at my work, I should bother you at yours. That was um, quite a reading. Very… uh… moving"

He played along. He was good, but she was better, deciding to mess with him more.

"Good, ' she thought, as the wind gathered up her hair. No one will see my tears." How does wind gather up hair ? I'm just curious."

"Oh, you're telling me how to do my job?"

"Irritating, isn't it?" she said as she bit her lip.

His mother and daughter found him quickly and Kate couldn't help but notice that his mother had looked her up and down. She tried not to listen to the family conversation that was going on, but she couldn't help it.

"Oh, let's just hope Nikki Heat does as well."

"Nikki Heat?"

"The character he's basing on you."

Kate felt herself growing angry. She stared at Castle, making sure he knew how mad she was. How the hell was she supposed to be respected at work if there was a character based on her that sounded like a stripper?

"Nikki. Heat. Can I talk to you a second?" It wasn't a question. He knew he was in trouble.

"What kind of a name is "Nikki Heat" ?"

"A cop name."

"It's a stripper name"

"I did tell you that she is kinda slutty"

"Change it, Castle."

"Well, hang on a second. Think of the titles. Summer Heat. Heat Wave. In Heat."

"Change the name!" She was _not_ going to let herself become a stripper.

"No"

"yes"

"No"

Having Castle follow her around was about to get much more difficult.


	6. Finishing the story

_**A/N: This was the first of the one shots that I wrote. It came to me really organically and it is really how I intended all the one-shots to be. I really liked this one, and I hope you guys do too. It's the lead up to Kate's first visit to Castle's loft**_

**Finish the Story:**

This case had been doing things to Kate's mind. Cold cases tended to drive her insane. They were always too close to home for her. For Kate, one of the worst things was to tell a family that you had no idea what had happened to their loved one. The worst thing was to be told that. She never wanted others to be stuck in purgatory like she had been for so many years. She needed to give the family the answers that she couldn't give herself. Kate Beckett had to find a way to spare Melanie's daughters the pain that she lived with each and every day.

When the others had left the station for the day, she stayed, pacing in front of the murder board. She would not let herself give up. She had the facts, and she had the ending; she just needed to know how she got from one part to the next. She needed to find the story.

Kate hated leaving people in pain. She hated being unable to help. She had learnt that not everyone gets a happy ending, and she had learnt it the hard way. She thought about her mother as her hand grasped the ring she wore on the chain around her neck. Leaning against a desk, she closed her eyes; trying not to think about the day it all had happened. She tried not to remember the disappointment in her father's eyes when her mother hadn't shown up at the restaurant that night. She tried not to remember how she had fallen to the ground when the detective had told them what had happened. She tried not to remember what it had felt like to stand in front of her mother's body when she identified the body, her father too upset to do it. She tried not to remember every little detail of her mother's death, but she couldn't.

Kate took a deep breath and fell to the floor. She let the tears flow, knowing that she was alone. Her mother's death had left a hole inside her; she was hollow. She had never really forced herself to deal with the pain. Her father had struggled to live in a world without Johanna and little Katie had to grow up, quickly. She had to be strong for her dad, so she buried her pain. She changed the channel when she saw a mother and daughter together. She changed the subject if a friend mentioned their mother. She went about her life as if her mother had never existed. If she had never had a mother, she would never have had the hole inside her, eating away at her happiness. Kate went about her life, purposely avoiding anything that would make her miss Johanna Beckett more than she already did.

She began making decisions based on whether they would remind her of her mom. Throughout her childhood, Kate had idolized her mother, always planning to follow in her footsteps and become a lawyer. Kate had only been thinking one day at a time in the time since her mother died. She didn't think of the future; why bother when you could be stabbed tomorrow? On the day of her college graduation, she still had no idea of what to do. Law school ad been her dream, but she didn't want to be reminded every day that she was just like her mother. She couldn't face a future filled with sad reminders of the conversations she would never have.

Burying the truth and her pain with distractions had never helped Kate. She had realized when her father, drunk as he was, had called her Johanna by mistake. She couldn't pretend that her mother hadn't been stabbed. She couldn't pretend that her mother had never existed. She couldn't pretend that she was okay. She had lived every day in fear; the fear that she would forget her mother, the fear that the same would happen to someone else, and the fear that it would happen to her. Kate couldn't live with the fear. She had to find the truth.

Running her hands through her hair, Kate let a small smile spread across her face as she remembered the decision to join the police force. It had been made on an impulse. Kate had never wanted to be a cop. All she wanted was to know what truly happened to her mother. Being a police officer was a means to an end. Kate bit her lip, struggling not to fall apart once more. The reality was, there had been no end. She still lived, every day, with the possibility that her mother's killer was still alive. She had tried to find the answers, but there had been no leads. She had buried herself in Johanna's existence, making the leap from one extreme to the other. She lived and breathed Johanna Beckett. It was no good. She couldn't do anything.

Kate wiped her tears and stood up. Again leaning against the desk, she reached for a bottle of water that sat nearby. Blinking to focus her eyes, she tried to focus on the board in front of her. Melanie Cavanagh was _not_ Johanna Beckett. Those two little girls would not grow up not knowing their mother's fate. It was _not_ the same situation. She took a deep breath and thought about the evidence. They _knew_ that Sam had done it. There _had_ to be some evidence. There _had_ to be something that tied him to the death of his wife. She had to find the truth. She needed to know the story.

She began to pace again. The movement often helped her to think and connect the dots. She was desperate and she would do anything to help. Her eyes drifted around the room, searching for distraction. Landing on her desk, she saw the two coffee cups, courtesy of Castle that morning. She hated to admit, even if it was only to herself, that Castle was helpful in the investigative process. He was a child and was unable to grasp the concept of evidence. To him, a crime was about the story. He was obsessed with the idea that every crime was a story and it would always have a satisfying ending. Reality was not one of his books, written carefully for mass approval. He didn't understand. Looking back at the board she struggled with her pride and her need to find the truth.

What Castle did know, was how to find the story. She needed to know; the family needed to know. Her pride told her that searching for the truth in a writer was irrational. She felt her body shaking as she grabbed her keys and coat from her desk. She needed the answer, even if it took Castle to find it out.


End file.
